


Something's Gotta Hold on Me

by alexaplaysgames



Category: Last Legacy (Visual Novel)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Childhood Memories, F/M, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Other, Possible smut in future chapters, Teasing, Touching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28651185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexaplaysgames/pseuds/alexaplaysgames
Summary: A collection of one-shots based on Last Legacy from Fictif.Mostly Felix/Barista but possibly some Rime/Barista in the future.
Relationships: Felix/Player | Cosplayer (Last Legacy | Fictif)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	1. Hideaway

**Author's Note:**

> Felix and his barista explore his childhood home.

I’m not even sure how I ended up here, to be quite honest.

But I would’ve had to be crazy to have predicted such a thing- a portal to another dimension (is this another dimension?), a towering manor overflowing with stuffy furniture and servants, a raven-haired goth (although he would protest to such a description) with a bird skull strung around his neck. Honesty, his fashion sense is questionable, though admittedly charming, but I nonetheless can’t seem to get him out of my head.

No, this is the stuff of fantasies born to the insane, of perhaps just the slightly deranged.

I’m not protesting, however, quite the contrary. As I pull Felix through the winding corridors of his childhood home, trying not to thing about the smooth softness of his cool hand in mine, I can honestly say that I haven’t had such fun in a very, very long time.

“Stop, stop!” Felix laughingly protests between laboured breaths, tugging on my hand. I gradually slow up to a halt, our footsteps echoing in the large, surprising empty corridor, and Felix slips his hand from mine to brace his hands on his knees as he pants. I try to ignore the resulting disappointment that pangs and my chest and grin.

“You doing okay there, bird boy?”

Apparently, he still has the energy to raise his head and glare.

“My apologies, dear barista, that I have not your physical endurance.” He rolls his eyes, then pauses and smirks. “My being a magical prodigy has spared me the effort of such trivial things as exercise.” He spits the last word out with a scoff.

My grin widens as I saunter closer, placing a finger under his chin to raise his gaze to meet mine from where he is still bent over and panting.

“Perhaps we’ll just have to work on your stamina then, won’t we?”

Felix’s cheeks flush that pretty red that I know has nothing to do with exertion as he ducks his head. I smirk as I turn to examine the nearby wall, giving him time to collect himself. How fun it is to make him blush.

A row of framed paintings lines the wall, all of the equally bizarre. I try to make sense of the faces in them, but the harder I look, the more blurred they become. They are all covered in a discernible layer of dust, indicating that this hallway is rarely used. A peculiar sort of coldness rolls off of the strange pieces, one that has me averting my eyes from the freaky, obviously magically concealed paintings.

“Do you think anyone will find us here?”

I question as I turn to see Felix straightening and running a hand through his hair. I try not to let my eyes follow the motion, choosing instead to meet his icy gray gaze.

He seems perturbed as he looks around, biting his lip. It’s as if he’s just realized where we are. His fault for letting me lead him through the monstrous maze that is his home.

“No. Escell has not entered this corridor in years. I’m surprised he has not blocked it off. He rather enjoys avoiding all things that make him uncomfortable.”

“And what makes him uncomfortable about this wing?”

“Too many memories, my dear. Memories he would prefer to keep locked up.” Though he says it with a smirk, tapping one black-painted fingernail against his temple, it comes out only as sounding rather sad.

I open my mouth to reply, but am interrupted by a sharp-

“Master Felix! Enough with your foolish hiding!”

Felix’s eyes widen as he visibly flinches. “Great goddess, have mercy.”

The voice of Madam Usoro, an angry, mean, lump of a woman, sounds like it is coming from just down the long hall. I cringe inwardly, and probably outwardly, at the thought of meeting her again. According to Felix, she was one of his many childhood nannies (the only one that actually managed to survive his torments), and judging by her scowl, she hasn’t had a “me day” since then.

Unfortunately, Escell also assigned her the task of watching over Felix.

“Ridiculous,” he huffs, “it is as if I am nine years old again!”

My gaze darts frantically between the doors lining the walls, not sure where any of them lead.

I grab Felix’s sleeve and tug, though his eyes stay trained on the end of the hallway, his expression resigned.

“Felix!” I hiss, “which of these goddamn doors will get us out of here?”

He merely sighs. “Why bother? My inevitable capture fast approaches, thus I have decided to be accepting of my fate. I will remain here as a prisoner for the rest of my days while Escell continues to treat me like a babbling infant.”

Great. Now really isn’t the time for his dramatics. I lunge forward and lock my hand around his wrist, tugging him once more down the endless corridor of doors. I feel Felix stiffen as I go to open the first door that catches my eye, but I yank it open and pull him inside before he can protest. The door shuts with a satisfying click and we are alone in a strange, dark room.

“Felix?” I cannot see a thing.

A flash of light, and then Felix appears, a green

orb of light glowing in his palm. I suck in a breath as I take in the captivating way the light hits his features, highlighting his long eyelashes and silvery eyes.

“Apologies! I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

I shake my head, unable to divulge to him the truth. I can’t have him knowing about my strange infatuation. Though I often indulge in what I consider to be harmless flirtation, I know Felix obviously isn’t interested in me. Just days ago he was crying over me, thinking I was someone else! The thought is sobering, and I shake my head.

“What is this room?”

“Ah,” he appears uncharacteristically lost for words. “This is... nothing. We can wait here, I’m certain she’ll cease her endless badgering soon enough.”

I send him a thumbs up before I turn to examine the room. I might as well look around, if there’s nothing else to do but sit around.

“Wait!” Felix’s sharp cry is especially harsh in the quiet of the strange room.

My head jerks up. “What is it?”

“I simply think it best not to carelessly voyage through the uncertainties of the dark. You haven’t a clue what you could stumble upon.”

Something about his tone sounds off, but I sigh and move back towards the door anyway. I have learned that there is no use arguing with him.

I’m almost near the safe haven of Felix’s orb of light when my foot slips on something. I manage to catch myself, but lean down and pick up the offensive item out of curiosity.

It’s a bound, leather notebook. It looks worn, from what I can tell in the faint light, and I flip it open to the inside cover, ignoring Felix’s faint protests in the back of my mind. On the right page are lines of scrawling, messy and unintelligible handwriting. But that’s not what catches my eye. On the left, the page reads:

Property of Felix Iskandar Escellun

I lift my gaze to meet Felix’s guilty visage.

“This is yours?”

He cringes but attempts to hide it with a shrug. The movement does not at all look natural on him.

“You are aware I was raised here?” He snatches the journal out of my grasp with his free hand, then quirks a brow. “Why are you surprised to find an object previously in my possession?”

Felix is an atrocious liar. I glance around the room and suddenly it hits me where we are.

“This was your bedroom, wasn’t it?”

Although Felix is, I assume, currently staying somewhere else in the castle, his reaction leaves me with no doubt in my mind that this used to be his room.

Felix bites his lip (he really needs to stop doing that lest I get distracted) then slowly nods. With another sigh, he presses his palms together, then spreads them apart until green light flows throughout the room, the night vision goggle-like effect making it look like we’re on an episode of ghost hunters.

“I would rather not spend time sifting through old memories,” Felix says quietly from beside me as I observe my surroundings.

The room is relatively sparsely decorated. In the centre of the opposite wall is a large, canopy bed, the sheets tossed to the side and the curtains haphazardly thrown about. A large desk is pressed up against one wall, overflowing with notebooks and stacks of parchment, and a bookcase on the opposite wall is spilling over with messily arranged books. A large, elegant armchair is piled high with odd boxes near the middle of the room, and an open armoire is empty save for a pile of clothing laying at the bottom. The whole place is a mess, and though the furniture is very fine, Felix’s attempts to hide that fact are quite obvious. The few windows are boarded up, the curtains surrounding them singed. In fact, there are several odd burn marks on the floor, and I don’t think they’re due to the large stone fireplace.

“Wow.” Very eloquent of me to say.

“Ugh. I despise this room.”

I drift curiously about making note of the objects in the room. Aside from the pieces of writing, there is very little here to signify that the room was Felix’s.

I walk over to the window and am pleased to find the the large wooden board covering it is relatively easy to dislodge. Behind it, there is a window seat, and I glance out the window to see a view of the rolling hills that stretch being the castle, illuminated by the moonlight.

Felix flops onto the window seat with a sigh. I sit beside him and try to ignore the fact that our knees touch.

Felix squeezes his eyes shut. “I apologize for my theatrics, dear barista, but I would truly rather leap off the highest tower of the castle of Porrima than suffer through living in this room again.”

I refrain from telling him that I did, in fact, almost leap off the castle’s highest tower, and it is not as fun as he makes it out to be.

He hardly ever speaks of his past without flippant disregard for true emotion. “Will you tell me why it was so bad, Felix?”

His eyes shoot open and he scoffs, though his eyes glisten in the moonlight which shines through the window.

His voice is small as he replies. “I was forced every day to live a life I hated in hopes of pleasing a father whose love I already knew I would never earn. I have never felt so useless, so pathetically desperate, as I felt here. And here I am, back again. All my work to escape this place has been for naught.”

My heart aches for him, the expression on his face causing a physical pain in my chest.

“Felix...” I say softly, and before I even register what I’m doing, my hand is grabbing his.

Felix meets my gaze, eyes wide. Every time I touch him he gets so surprised, and I wonder how often he has been touched lovingly in his life.

“I would never think you useless, Felix, never. You are so extraordinary, so brilliant, and it’s a shame that you can’t see it. You have done so much for me and... I need you. Not just to get home, I don’t even know if I care about that anymore, but because you’ve make me so happy, Felix. Being with you feels like being able to breathe. I know that everyone else has left you, but I promise you, I never will. Never.”

His lips part in shock at my words and this time I can’t stop my eyes from flickering down to his mouth. He is so beautiful. I would do anything to kiss him, even just once.

Felix raises his hand and his fingers draw lines down my cheek, making me shiver. Then he leans forward and presses his forehead against mine, closing his eyes.

“Thank you.”

The words are said so quietly that I barely hear them, but I don’t need to with the gratitude that seems to roll off of him in waves.

“Felix?”

“Hm?”

A pause.

“Do you ever think about me?”

“I... I- of course I do. You have consumed every aspect of my waking life.” I can hear a slight teasing in his voice.

I lick my lips. “Do you ever think of me like you think of Rime?”

I can feel him flinch at the name and am about to apologize before he speaks.

“Rime is gone. A necromancer knows better than to waste energy attempting to recall what has been truly lost.”

“Oh... I-“

He sounds so incredibly sad. Whoever Rime is, I’ve no doubt that Felix loved this person. Though I know I shouldn’t feel jealous of a dead person, envy ripples through my stomach all the same.

“I... do. Think about you.”

And the meaning has changed. He pulls back with a shaky breath, cheeks bright red. “I know I am not the most naturally affectionate person, but I-“

He thinks about me. My heart does a fluttering little happy dance at the thought.

Screw it. If I leave this world, I don’t want to have any regrets.

And that’s the thought that propels me forward as I crash my lips into his with a longing I have never before felt. Felix gasps against my mouth and stiffens, and I panic. What the hell am I doing? But no sooner has the thought left my mind then he relaxes and kisses me back. He kisses me back! And I’ve never felt anything more wonderful.

His hands come to set at my waist as mine cup his face, feeling his jaw work as he kisses me and that makes it all the more real that he is kissing me and this isn’t some sort of fervour dream. I pull his hair free from its tie and tangle my fingers in the silken locks of his hair, and god, it’s just as soft as I thought I would be.

Felix kisses like he talks- a little hesitant, full of passion, and enough to make your head spin. It feels like I’m falling, I don’t know which way it’s up and which is down, just like when he rambles on about spells I could never hope to comprehend, but the drop is thrilling because I’ve wanted it so badly and for so long. At first it’s slow, soft, but I want, so I press myself harder against him in effort to let him know that’s it’s okay for him to let himself take from me what he needs.

His hands tighten around my waist as he pulls me closer to him, hands drifting over my sides, and I smile against his lips at his momentary display of forwardness. I retaliate by tugging on his hair that flows between my fingers like water, causing his lips to part against mine as he gasps, the perfect opportunity to slip my tongue into his mouth and I’m worried that I’m moving too fast but he moans. I sling a leg over his thigh and we’re grabbing at each other like horny teenagers now-

Felix pulls away with a gasp (I knew we had to work on his stamina). We’re both breathing hard, echoing in the quiet of the large room, and he blinks rapidly; he looks rather like someone hit him over the head with a brick.

I smile at him, running a thumb over his lower lip, and he lets out a pained noise somewhere between a whimper and a squeak.

“I liked that,” I whisper.

“You- you did?”

I nod. “Of course, Felix. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.”

“R-really?”

I roll my eyes, responding by leaning forward and pressing another chaste kiss to his lips.

“Me too.” He whispers it like a secret, one that I’ll gladly hold forever in my heart. 

Felix tentatively reaches and takes my hand in his, flipping it over and drawing little patterns into my palm as he turns to stare out the window again. It’s soothing, and I don’t really pay attention to the patterns. But after a while, I think he starts inadvertently drawing hearts into my skin. It’s rather cute; I didn’t take him for a romantic.

“Master Felix!” The voice sounds from not too far outside Felix’s bedroom door.

“Shit.”

I’m afraid I don’t possess his way with words.

Our eyes meet and we both burst into a fit of giggles as the sounds of Madam Usoro’s footsteps gets louder. Trapped as we are, she’s bound to find us soon. Somehow, I’m not worried. Nothing could ever take Felix from me.

And he knows that I will never leave him.


	2. Improper Behaviour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and his barista act like the idiots they are.

“Don’t listen to them.”

Felix scoffs and attempts his usual smirk, but it falls incredibly flat.

“How can I not? Just look at them all,” he whispers, and I do, at the countless other couples swirling around us, their elegance and poise unlike anything I’ve ever witnessed before. Their mouths are also bigger than any group of people I’ve ever met; the whispers about Felix and I haven’t ceased since we entered the ballroom.

“This is the standard that I held myself to for my entire childhood. It has become apparent that I’ve fallen quite flat in terms of upholding the family name.” Though our hands are clasped together, he tears his eyes from rest of the room and looks down at himself in apparent disgust.

Felix has yet to miss a single beat of the dance, though he looks incredibly uncomfortable, which accounts for my slight stumbling. It surprises me that, for once in his life, he actually managed to get something down properly without half-assing it whenever possible. Go figure.

“Hey,” I tsk in admonishment, “Don’t talk about my friend that way.”

We glide away from each other as required by the dance, pressing just our fingertips together as we move in a circle. Felix throws me an unimpressed look, but not before I can see the way his lips twitch up at the corners.

I take the opportunity to survey the ballroom. While it is undeniably gorgeous, the chandeliers sparkle and soaring gold drapes line the walls, and the company is certainly well-dressed, it is equally suffocating. I feel as if I might drown under the weight of thick perfume, stuffy dresses, and unattainable expectations. A glimpse into Felix’s childhood, I suppose.

The music swells to a crescendo as we meet again, but this time I decide to give Escell the middle finger, and clasp my arms around Felix's neck, pulling him impossibly close.

“Stop!” He hisses, eyes wide. “It’s not proper!”

I laugh, shimmying my hips a little as I throw him a wink. I can feel eyes on us already, but I opt to ignore them in favour of staring into his eyes. “Oh, come on, grandpa. Lighten up a little.”

“If you have a death wish, you could at least be so kind as to leave me out of it.”

“Nope! Sorry, but you’re stuck with me for good. No refunds.”

I slide my hands down his arms and take his hands in mine, then start doing an undeniably stupid swinging motion with our hands between us while Felix flushes bright red, still standing stiff as a board.

“I’m going to look stupid if you don’t join me.”

He suddenly laughs, really laughs, and it sounds better than any music that’s been played all night. “I think you’ll manage that either way.”

Still, he starts to sway his arms with mine, looking more like he’s placating a toddler than actually doing in on his own free will. Still, with each moment, he seems to relax a little more, even as the whispers around us grow, and as we begin to dance even more freely his face lights up with an expression I don’t think I’ve ever seen on him before: true happiness.

The next few minutes are a whirlwind of Felix trying to teach me some traditional Velan dance, me trying to teach him the Macarena (which he called “banal” and “a poor waste of his obvious talents), and though I think neither of us have learnt anything by the end, seeing him so happy, and the scandalized expressions of the other guests, was definitely worth it.

I duck under Felix’s arm, then spin him around in circles until he dizzies himself and nearly bumps into an older person in fine robes behind us, who throws us a mean stink-eye. Felix hastily mumbles his apologies before I quickly pull him back toward me, wrapping my arms around his waist from behind as we both fall into a fit of giggles. I rest my chin on his shoulder as we sway back and forth, breathless.

I can feel sweat coating the back of my neck, and pieces of Felix’s hair that have come loose from their tie cling to his forehead. We’re a mess, but it’s exhilarating.

Is that Escell’s boy?  
Yes, his estranged son, I believe. Pity that he’s returned just to make a fool of himself.  
“People are staring,” Felix mumbles.

“People were staring before. At least now, we gave them a reason.”

He hums in apparent agreement.

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“Escell. Run.” He squeaks, patting my arms in attempt to get me to release him.

I quickly comply, seizing his wrist as we dash out of the ballroom, laughing the entire way.

“That was brilliant,” Felix manages between pants. “You should’ve seen the look on his face.”

I can’t help but agree, as we round another corner, sliding further out of Escell’s grasp with every step: absolutely brilliant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @pralexa01 to get updates on my writing and scream about Felix with me!


	3. Have Mercy on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felix and his barista are a bit less than careful when it comes to concealing their midnight make out sess.

When I imagined travelling with the legendary Starsworn, sitting in the parlour of a run-down inn and getting wasted wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

Sage grabs a bottle from the table at his feet and takes a hearty swig.

“Even this is failing to entertain me now,” he says, cracking his back as he stands, “I’m going to go pass out.”

“Will you kill me if I call it a cat nap?” I singsong.

Safe glares at me in reply, ears pinned flat against his head. “Do you want to find out?”

I opt to stay quiet as he turns towards the stairs that lead to our rented rooms.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night as well,” Anisa hums, her green eyes glittering in the firelight. “Goodnight, you two!”

Felix and I sit silently as the sound of creaking wood accompanying footsteps retreats up the stairs.

As soon as the parlour is silent, he turns to me, smirking.

“Ah, to be free of Sage’s incessant pestering.”

I too am rather glad to be alone with him. With all that’s gone on lately, I’ve barely had Felix to myself at all these last few days.

The cracking of the fire is soothing, the silence between us strangely comfortable. It’s rather odd, considering Felix isn’t one for quiet contemplation, and it’s very rare that any situation he’s involved in remains free of awkwardness.

I’m distracted from my thoughts as Felix glances down at our hands, still close together being that we have yet to separate from our previously crowded position on the sofa.

Once again, I feel myself wishing that he would just ask for things when he wanted them, like he so obviously wants to hold my hand now. Am I doing something wrong? Is this some consequence of his relationship with Rime? I know almost nothing about that, I don’t really want to, but if that deer-man did anything to hurt Felix, I guarantee I’ll snap his antlers like Pixy Stix.

Then again, perhaps some of the hurting was consensual. He did have some choice comments about their sexual relationship that I’ve really been trying to forget. Yikes. I can’t imagine the Felix I know in a relationship anything like that.

He’s too precious… too soft. I feel like getting rough with him would break him, shattering his beauty to shards, like stained glass.

But I wouldn’t mind if he were a bit more forward with me.

“Do you want to hold my hand, Felix?”

He starts, then blushes as he meets my gaze. Felix nods, his expression turning resolute as he slowly reaches for my hand, then intertwines my fingers with his.

I reach to delicately tilt his chin up with the index finger of my free hand.

“I do like you, you know,” I tease, but the words still carry meaning. “You don’t have to be so hesitant.”

“O-okay. I know that, I do. It’s just… difficult,” he scoffs, a frustrated sound deep in his throat. His voice goes soft as he continues, “I haven’t- I haven’t done this since…”

“I know.” He doesn’t need to say Rime’s name for me to know who this is about.

I smile, sultry turning soft, then focus my attention back on the fireplace as Felix lays his head on my shoulder with a soft sigh. Progress. His hair tickles my chin, but I don’t really mind. He smells… nice. Like… well, he actually kind of smells like sage. Sage the plant, not the person. Felix would certainly take offence to the latter. I snicker under my breath just thinking of his reaction if I told him so.

I suddenly shiver as Felix turns his face into my neck, trying to stay still. He’s not a huge fan of casual physical contact, and I don’t want to scare him away. He’s kinda like a pet, a cat, in that any time he gets close I stay shock still in hopes that he won’t run off. He’s like a cat in many ways, actually. Grumpy, recluse, adorable. Another description he would despise, knowing his hatred for Stella. I purse my lips to keep from giggling. Man, if only everyone knew how hilarious I really am.

“You realize,” Felix hums, the vibrations creating goosebumps across my skin. “We are completely alone.”

My amusement fades in an instant, my features stretching into a seductive grin.

“Oh? And what, Felix, oh dignified and talented mage, are you suggesting?”

I can almost feel his face heat from where it’s pressed against the soft skin of my neck.

He sighs, then mumbles, “I beg you not to tease me so. We can’t all be as lascivious as Sage, my dear.”

“Felix,” I tease, despite his request, “are you asking for a kiss?”

He pulls away, face flushed red, biting his lip as he refuses to meet my gaze.

“No.” The answer is obviously yes, and although his pout is adorable, he sounds like a stubborn, petulant child.

I place my hands on both of his cheeks, forcing him to meet my gaze.

“Good. Because you don’t need to ask. If you want to kiss me Felix, go ahead.”

It’s a bold challenge. Never does Felix initiate such things, but I want him to. I want him to want to.

He blinks. Then, slowly, tentatively, he shifts closer to me, the sofa creaks beneath him, and I feel the cushions sink as he leans towards me. His breath fans across my face as he gets impossible closer, his eyelashes fluttering against my cheeks.

It’s in moments like these that it truly hits me: how incredibly intoxicating Felix is. I don’t think I could refuse him if I wanted to; my heart yearns to be swept up in the vortex of his stormy eyes, to drown in a sea as black as his fingernails or as red as his bitten lips.

I can just barely feel the brush of his lips against mine, leaving my breath stuttering in my throat. It’s nice- the closeness, the stillness. Intimate even, with our foreheads pressed together and our mouths just barely touching. I could stay like this with him forever.

Then our lips slide together in a familiar, passionate dance, slow and sensual and utterly delicious. I instinctively move my hands to tangle in his hair, pulling just the way I know he likes, while Felix surprises me by moving one hand to cup my face, the other to skim my thigh, and kissing my back hard, hard enough to make me feel like the breath that fills his lungs, and I struggle to refrain from smiling against the softness of his lips.

I pull away, trying not to notice his bereft, breathy little exhale, just long enough to quirk a brow before I place my hands on his chest and push him back into the sofa, chuckling at the noise of shock that he makes.

And while I love to have him near me, holding me, this is where I like Felix best. Pinned under me as I straddle his waist, wide, silvery eyes reflecting the dying firelight.

I lean over him, tantalizing, teasing, trace a path with my tongue from his collarbone to the shell of his ear, then finish by biting down on his earlobe, rolling the stud he wears in his ear with the tip of my tongue.

Felix gasps, hips involuntarily pressing upwards and against mine, a breathy whine building in his throat. I catch his wrists and pin them above his head, leaning back to admire the mess I’ve made of him.

“So pretty,” I murmur, twirling a strand of his hair with my free hand.

“You are quite,” his voice shakes with his ragged exhale, “resplendent yourself.”

I snort, hum, then lean forward to capture his mouth in a sinful, open-mouth kiss, grinding against him once more in a way that has us both panting into each other’s mouths. I’m not sure how long we stay tangled up like that, rocking together, never parting for longer than it takes to catch a breath.

His skin is surprisingly warm to the touch when my fingers flit under the fabric of his shirt, dipping over the soft give of his stomach, a gentle, exploratory touch I can feel mirrored by Felix’s hands on the bare skin of my arms.

I’m just about to suggest we take this somewhere more private when I’m interrupted by a choking noise. A sound not unlike that of a cat, yakking on a hairball.

Felix and I hastily spring apart, and my gaze is immediately drawn to a tall, white-haired figure standing at the base of the stairs.

“Holy fuck.” Sage whispers, his expression a mix of amusement, awe, and confusion. His eyes dart between the look of sheer mortification that paints my features and Felix’s dishevelled appearance and half-open shirt.

Shit.

Felix flops back down, burying his burning red face in a pillow.

“Not now, Sage.”

Sage only smirks. “Interrupted something, did I? By all means, don’t stop on my accord. I’m all for watching, or joining. If you’re into that sorta thing.”

I can only manage to stare, slack-jawed. Is he really suggesting…?

“So,” Sage clears his throat, causing Felix to groan at the realization that he has not yet left. “You two really are-“

I nod.

“No,” he grimaces.

“Yes,” I deadpan.

“No,” he repeats, louder, frantic. “I cannot live in a world in which Felix has game. First Rime, now you? Are you sure you’re the one who got teleported to another dimension?”

“That’s not exactly what-“ Felix finally huffs as he raises his head, glaring.

“Whatever, man. This is some fucked up shit. Majorly fucked up, that’s what I say.” Sage crosses the room, retrieving a dagger from the nearby armchair and twirling it dangerously in his leather-clad grip (I assume this is the reason he came back into the parlour at all).

He makes to move up the stairs, but pauses, throwing me a grin over his shoulder, accompanied by a waggle of his eyebrows.

“So if you ever wanna get a taste of the wild side…”

“Sage!” Felix exclaims, eyes flashing a dangerous green, but the former only snickers.

“Goodnight, horny children. Try to keep the noise level to a minimum, if ya know what I mean.”

I have to slap my hand over Felix’s mouth to stifle his angry retort.

This is going to be a long few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr @pralexa01 to get updates on my writing and scream about Felix with me!


	4. Thrice as Pretty as you Think

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make sure Felix knows how pretty he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a recent Q & A where the devs said Felix doesn't know just how pretty he is. I thought that was a shame.

You slowly blink your eyes open, inhaling the scent of fresh cotton that laces the sheets beneath you. You stretch, slow and lazy, with the hurriedness of a person still intoxicated by the last of the sleep in their veins.

Dust motes dance through the streaks of light that part the thick curtains, little white speckles illuminated by beams of gold. A peaceful, soothing lull washes over you, fed by the steady silence and the warmth of the body next to yours.

Felix’s dark hair splays against the pillows, his chest gently rising and falling as he breathes, steadily and constant in a strangely soothing manner. Little specks of light reflect off his eyelashes, illuminating the faint freckles around his nose.

He looks so incredibly soft, in this tender moment; it’s as if for once he has allowed himself to drop the tireless charade, the feigned indifference he often sports. He doesn’t look so angry with the world, or with himself.

You shift a bit closer, as close as you can allow yourself, letting the sheets slide over your back and hips as you move to rest on your elbows. You must look incredibly infatuated, borderline obsessed, you decide, staring at your lover while he sleeps in such a peculiar manner. You simply cannot help it. Pity the person presented with such raw beauty and not allowed to gaze upon it devotedly. 

You stare. You admire. You trace the curve of Felix’s jaw, his lips, with your eyes, not daring to touch. You do so for long enough that your elbows begin to ache against the mattress, thus you move to relieve the strain, slowly-

Not slowly enough. Too careless. The bed frame creaks and sways as you shift your weight. Your heart does a flip in your chest, your mouth going dry as your morning brain registers the consequences of your actions.

Felix’s eyes flutter open, the grey of his irises meeting yours. You watch confusion crest across his features at the sight of you almost kneeling over him, then something decidedly fond taking its place.

His voice is still thick with sleep. “What-“

Your mind flips through a few possible responses before you settle on honest. Your hand cups his chin, a fleeting and momentary touch, before you smile in a way that you hope comes off as warm and unabashedly kind.

“I just wanted to look at you. You’re pretty.”

Felix looks much more awake after that comment. He flushes a deep red, eyes wide, before he turns and buries his face in the pillows with a noise not unlike a squeak.

You laugh under your breath at his reaction, now freely moving closer to drape an arm over his waist. “You are so pretty, Felix.”

It takes a moment for his breathing to steady, his heart racing almost as if he were terrified. When it does, he rolls onto his back, the sheets rustling under him. His gaze shifts across your face, as if trying to decide whether you’re telling the truth.

Apparently, he finds in your features whatever he was searching for. Felix leans up on his elbows and softly presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he falls back against the mattress again.

You grin. “Pret-ty.” You tap his nose as you enunciate each syllable, as if by doing so you can assure they stick in his mind.

Felix rolls his eyes and groans, the action betrayed by the flush that once more coats his cheeks, before he hides his face against your chest.

———

“Will you not even entertain the idea?”

“Entertain the idea? The idea of what, precisely? Of debasing myself to cater to people who have nothing better to do that showcase their wealth?”

You half shrug at that. It’s not as if he’s wrong, exactly. But it also isn’t as if he has a choice.

Felix turns back towards the mirror and sighs. “Isn’t it at least a bit amusing to talk to them?” you ask. “I know you love _deep conversation_.”

He snorts. “I fear the nobility are lacking when it comes to ‘deep conversation’. They’re more concerned with the depths of their pockets.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh. Felix can be tirelessly argumentative sometimes. Your eyes find your own reflection in the vanity mirror, standing, and Felix, who sits on the stool in front of you. You look fetching, if you do say so yourself, as does he. The both of you dolled up in clothes that Escell has deemed worthy of his presence.

Or, at least, not deserving of his embarrassment.

You eye the wide array of jewelry that lines the vanity’s black marble, rivers necklaces dotted by gemstones, broaches, and hairpins. Your attention snags upon a pair of earrings, and you lean forward at the waist to pick them up.

“What are you doing?”

You don’t reply, and Felix watches as you hold the earrings against his ears, matching them to the colour of his eyes.

Aventurine, you would have to guess, if asked to name the stones that sit amidst the gold. How do you know that? Well, it’s definitely not because you went through a phase in the eighth grade. Certainly not.

You thumb his earlobes. “Can I take these out?”

He nods. You can feel his breath against your face as you unfasten the studs in his ears. You bite your lip in concentration as you replace them, and you can almost feel the weight of his gaze along your mouth.

“There,” you hum once you have finished your task. Felix turns and examines his reflection. You prop your chin on his shoulder and brush his hair behind his ears.

“You’ll be the prettiest noble in the room.”

Felix nearly chokes, his expression immediately turning flustered. He laughs a bit self-consciously under his breath, before he turns to look up at you.

“Only because _you’re_ not nobility, my dear.”

_Smooth_ , you think. _At least, I’m not yet_.

———

“You did not have to accompany me if you’re merely here to be captious of my choices in literature.”

You snort, attempting to stifle your laughter through pressed lips. “I’m sorry.”

Yeah, even you have to admit that you sound anything but.

Felix glares at you, stormy eyes narrowing to slits as he snatches the book from the shopkeeper. “You undoubtedly are not.”

“I am.”

He sighs. “Fine,” you acquiesce, “I apologize if I find it just a tad bit amusing that you read smut.”

“It is not smut!” he exclaims, then lowers his voice at the stares of the market dwellers that pass you by. “It’s artistry.”

_Right._

You both make your way through the maze that is the crowd of people littering the streets of Porrima. The air is thick with the scent of spices, the voices of sellers ringing clear through the air.

You glance down at the cobblestone streets and, as soon as you do, hear a sharp smack from your right, the thud of a heavy book hitting the ground.

“Nice book, pretty boy!”

You look over your shoulder just in time to see the person who just shoulder-checked Felix disappear around a stoned corner.

Felix glares after them, his jaw clenched. With his lip curled and his eyes flashing green, he looks _angry_ in a way you’ve rarely, if ever, seen him before. Then he sighs and his shoulders fall. He bends to pick up the fallen book, dusting it off with his jacket sleeve. He mumbles under his breath in Velan, words that you assume aren’t especially kind.

“Hey,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder, your eyes searching his face. “Look at me.”

He does, though his features look rather lifeless. “I am _fine_ ,” he insists. “It’s not as if being mocked for my appearance is a novelty. I’ve heard it all before.”

He goes to step away from you but you stop him, grabbing his sleeve.

“You are pretty, Felix.”

His lips part as if he wants to protest, or question, but you continue on.

“You’re beautiful. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

He’s just staring at you now, unblinking. Is he alright? No matter, you’re sure he understands the depths of your affections, despite the brevity of your declaration.

Then he places a hand on your cheek and kisses you, chaste but affectionate, in the middle of the street. Where people can judge, where his father will inevitably receive word of your “relations”. For Felix, it’s the equivalent of writing “I love you” with the strength of a thousand suns.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, grazing his forehead against yours before he pulls away.

You think that if _that_ is what you get for calling him pretty, you might just take to doing it more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Tumblr @alexaplaysgames


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